


Sharp Claws

by obaewankenope (rexthranduil)



Series: Signalling Theory: Blue Coat [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Al-Shalad is my dearest OC rn, Arab mythology, BAMF!Newt, Badass Newt Scamander, Code: Blue Coat, Crappy crap, Fuuuuuck, M/M, Misinformation is an Auror's mortal enemy, Newt gets in so much trouble, Slightly self-pitying Graves, So are emotions heh, So it got a sequel didn't it. Aposematism, The story of Cairo and the Sphinx, This is now a series, badass newt, but he's also a spiteful fucker at heart, egyptian mythology - Freeform, heh, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:12:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9437531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexthranduil/pseuds/obaewankenope
Summary: In the aftermath of Grindelwald's disastrous trial and his near escape — thankfully halted by the courageous actions of a variety of civilians and Auror's alike — the MACUSA and other magical ministries across Europe involved in the Grindelwald Affair came to a swift agreement. Gellert Grindelwald was to remain in his cell during the new trial, under full guard, in a part of the Woolworth building where permanent anti-apparition wards existed. He wasn't permitted any visitors or guests to his cell, except those personally approved by the President of MACUSA, and they had to be accompanied by a legilimens to verify their minds had not been tampered with by the Dark wizard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little note about the titles of this series.
> 
> Aposematism in animals is designed to prevent attack. It doesn't always work, sometimes it's ineffective against some predators, sometimes it isn't. As a primary defence mechanism, Newt is a colourful individual with his blue coat and golden hair. His secondary defences aren't visible however and often are what surprise his opponents the most. Bright creatures tend to be very toxic to predators, but mammals like honey badgers are aggressively defensive. Newt is a Hufflepuff and the emblem of his house suits him well. Signalling theory tells you that Newt warns off predators and opponents with his colours, but when they don't take heed he'll show his claws and fight tooth-and-nail. It's what survivors do.
> 
> And Newt Scamander is definitely a survivor.

In the aftermath of Grindelwald's disastrous trial and his near escape — thankfully halted by the courageous actions of a variety of civilians and Auror's alike — the MACUSA and other magical ministries across Europe involved in the Grindelwald Affair came to a swift agreement. Gellert Grindelwald was to remain in his cell during the new trial, under full guard, in a part of the Woolworth building where permanent anti-apparition wards existed. He wasn't permitted any visitors or guests to his cell, except those personally approved by the President of MACUSA, and they had to be accompanied by a legilimens to verify their minds had not been tampered with by the Dark wizard.

Percy had been a staunch fan of that option even _before_ the first attempt at a trial and now he was almost fanatical in his approval for the decision Seraphina had finally reached, recognising the same thing Percy had known from the beginning; Grindelwald could not be allowed an inch or he'd take a mile and leave ruin in his wake. If it meant Percy wouldn't be able to stare Grindelwald down as he gave his own testimony of his time under the Dark wizard's care, something he'd greatly been looking forward too, then he'd just have to live with that fact. When he'd told Seraphina that, sarcasm dripping off every word, Picquery had rolled her eyes and called him a "theatrical man-child who hadn't changed since school." Percy had snorted out a dry laugh at that statement and watched Seraphina sweep out of his office with a dramatic flourish of her floor-length robes, leaving him alone with his youngest Auror who stared at him with an openly worried look on her expressive face.

The look Goldstein gave him probably meant that it was a good thing Percy wouldn't be able to see Grindelwald during the new trial, especially since she had been the one to find him during the search. Though he wasn't meant to be aware of what his Auror's had felt at the revelation of Grindelwald's impersonation of him, or of the resulting search for their own boss, Percy still retained his high-level access to their files; not that he'd mentioned _that_ to any of his healer's because he'd just known they'd run off and tattle to Seraphina and he'd have ended up even more bored during his recovery than he already had been. Three weeks in the healer's ward was three weeks too long, no matter how much his body had needed the rest.

Percy was well aware of how afraid, and guilty, many of his Auror's had been — _still_ were— after his rescue and while he could be many things, _was_ many things, Percy had no desire to be cruel or resentful towards his Auror's. He was an intensely private man and his Auror's had always respected that, even the young green one's fresh to his office. It was no surprise to him that his people hadn't realised the deception until months had passed. No. Percy wasn't angry with them. He _was_ a little annoyed at Seraphina but he didn't resent her either. If anything, he resented the situation, the world they lived in that had made it so easy for Grindelwald to impersonate him for so long. Still...

He had no desire to become as domineering as Grindelwald had been while wearing his face, but Percy often wondered if he appeared like that normally to his department. If that was why they hadn't noticed the imposter before a magizoologist put the thought in their heads. Not even the various legilimens in the department had noticed — though Percy had come to the shocking discovery that Grindelwald had engineered several of their accidents when out on cases. It had made his blood boil when he found out during Grindelwald's interrogation with Veritaserum.

No one hurt his people and got away with it.

_No one._

He owed Goldstein and the magizoologist a debt that he doubted he'd really be able to repay. Had they not acted as they had, had those creatures not escaped the magizoologist's case in the first place, Grindelwald's duplicity may never have been discovered before it was too late. In truth, the entirety of the magical world owed them much.

Goldstein, Percy had expected no less from. She was an exemplary witch and dedicated to her job and her sister. Porpentina 'Tina' Goldstein's actions were no surprise to Percy; he'd seen the spark of what would become a truly brilliant Auror back when she'd still been horrifically new to the department. She was still young, and had a fair way to go, but Percy expected that there wouldn't be any situation she wouldn't rally herself to confront head-on. Confront head-on and _win_.

On the matter of the magizoologist, however, Percy found himself immensely stumped.

In the quiet of his office, hours after the rest of his Auror's had retired for the evening, Percy took a generous sip of the No-Maj alcohol that they still had a supply of; prohibition be damned. Theseus Scamander was well-known to Percy; the elder Scamander sibling a well-respected British Auror who had carried out a number of courageous acts during The Great War. Percy recalled that the wizard had managed to save an entire contingent of No-Maj soldiers from a raid by several Dark wizards who were revealed to be supporters of Grindelwald's early policies. But on the topic of Newt Scamander, Percy knew startlingly little.

He found he disliked that. Intensely.

What he _did_ know was that, like his brother, Newt had fought in the war. His Ministry file stated that he'd worked with dragons across the European continent during the war; among other things that, for the strangest reason, Percy felt there was far more to the vague commentary in the files. Percy had read more than his share of reports that seemed to be leaving things out in his time as an Auror, and he felt that there was plenty more that could have been said in Scamander's file. He'd even read Newt's school record, frowning darkly at the near expulsion and destruction of the magizoologist's wand; something he'd avoided due to the staunch support of one Albus Dumbledore. The incident that had resulted in the near expulsion — though really it might as well be called what it was, an actual expulsion and total ban on casting magic before Scamander reached his majority — was sparsely discussed. A creature that attacked several students, apparently the result of a failed experiment to socialise the creature, and Scamander had been solely blamed for it. It didn't add up.

No.

Percy shook his head slightly, placing his glass of No-Maj whiskey on his desk as he pulled Scamander's file toward him. Flipping it open, Percy leafed through the pages until he reached the note that had been slipped into the file at some point — a direct copy of the original file housed in the British Ministry of Magic he'd requested that contained every scrape it's original counterpart did. The writing was overly expressive, far too many whorls and loops to be truly useful but it was something Percy recognised as something an especially nousy individual may employ to mislead. How often had he seen Seraphina purposefully use a quill that emphasised her natural flare when writing a reply to especially important individuals in the magical community? Or one's she wished to intimidate? Percy recognised a power play when he saw one. What was more interesting was the fact that Newt Scamander had someone _willing_ to make such a play on his behalf. The note was, as Percy had expected, penned by Dumbledore and generally spoke of Scamander's honour and loyalty, his kindness and unwillingness to let others be harmed for any reason. There was a feeling to the words, something that clung to the ink and had Percy's magic stir as he read the note.

Albus Dumbledore had written his note to remind people that Newt Scamander was most certainly not as he had appeared at the time. A layer to the story of Scamander's punishment that had cogs turning in Percy's mind, his thoughts contemplative as he slid the note back into the file and shut it, fingers tapping absent-mindedly on the top if it.

In the short time that Percy had seen Scamander, not even managing to speak to the magizoologist before shit had quite literally hit the fan with Grindelwald, he'd squarely pegged Scamander as someone who desperately avoided conflict wherever possible. Percy imagined that most would assume Scamander's reluctance to engage in an argument and such stemmed from the punishment of near expulsion during his senior years at Hogwarts, but Percy doubted it — No, Albus Dumbledore was a well-respected, powerful wizard who did not offer his patronage so easily, or so foolishly.

Newt Scamander was far more than he appeared and the reality of the incident at his school was obviously not as it had been reported in his file.

The way Scamander had fought during the assault on Grindelwald's trial cemented Percy's conclusion. No regular wizard could duel so effectively, nor as quickly or with as much restraint as Scamander had exhibited. Hells, even some of Percy's own Auror's hadn't shown such skill or ability as the magizoologist had and they were _trained_ to fight Dark wizards! There was something about Newt Scamander that didn't add up and Percy was determined to learn what it was.

Percy remembered the duel he'd had with Grindelwald, how he'd crumbled eventually. The memories were dull in a way that spoke to the healer's attempting to regulate their impact on his mental and physical wellbeing, but Percy remembered it well enough, _vividly_ enough, to know he'd hardly been a challenge for the Dark wizard. He'd used every trick he knew and had been bested by a wizard who possessed such magical strength it had been like trying to battle a force of nature. Impossible.

Percy had crumbled so quickly in truth. He'd been caught unawares and Grindelwald had taken him down slower than he could have. He'd played with him, drawn it out and taunted Percy throughout. In retrospect Percy realised why; Grindelwald needed to be able to impersonate Percy and that meant he needed to see him when he was duelling and angry. What better way than taunting him and threatening his Auror's?

But the Dark wizard hadn't done that with Scamander. Not in the tunnels beneath the city. The memories had been shared by Scamander willingly, and Picquery hadn't denied Percy the chance to watch the duel between the Dark wizard and the magizoologist. The speed of Grindelwald, the way he'd gone straight for some of the most vicious and violent spells that he'd held off using against Percy, told him much about what Grindelwald thought of Scamander. At first Percy had thought that Grindelwald had simply wanted Scamander out of the way, trying to clear his path to the Obscurus. And perhaps he was right, but the fact that Scamander hadn't crumbled beneath those first few spells had obviously given the Dark wizard pause — that slight scrunch of Percy's own brows when he was confused by something had seemed a mockery when it was Grindelwald wearing his face, but it had been easy for him to recognise the emotions Grindelwald felt as they crossed his face.

Then the Obscurus — _"Credence! Credence no!"_ — had exploded and both wizards had sought to survive. The speed Scamander had apparated, after being repeatedly attacked by Grindelwald, had honestly amazed Percy. Such sharp awareness and quick thinking was difficult for many to manage for a half-dozen continuous jumps, and there Scamander was, apparating like it was nothing more than a natural instinct he possessed.

Then the end of Credence Barebone, a boy Percy hadn't even _known_ , had been a sad, shocking affair and something that had rocked him to his core.

The pain and emotions that clung to the memories Scamander had shared bled through him as he'd watched. The horror and grief near crippling and Percy had no idea how Scamander had been able to focus on Grindelwald when caught up in such a torrent of emotion. He didn't know anyone who could feel that deeply or strongly and still function. Not even the legilimens' Percy knew felt that much; they were always shielding and managing their emotions. Idly Percy had wondered how Goldstein's sister had handled meeting Newt Scamander.

The memories had ended with Grindelwald staring at Scamander, something in his mismatched eyes that Percy found greatly disturbing. Those parting words — _"Will we die? Just a little?"_ — made no sense to Percy but… but they meant something to Scamander. What they meant, the magizoologist seemed to wish not to say. But they meant something.

The look Seraphina had given him when he'd stumbled back out of the pensieve on her desk, shaking his head to dislodge the lingering sense-memory that wasn't his own, had Percy hesitating to ask her if she understood the words. Somehow he doubted she did either.

Percy flicked his wrist, gesturing with two fingers, and the file slid back across the desk, slipping back into the pile of similar files on the edge of his desk. Percy sighed, reaching for his whiskey and taking a liberal mouthful of it. Newt Scamander was an enigma with a complicated history and a background in obscure magical creatures and adventures Percy highly doubted Scamander had ever actually reported to anyone. The story of the Obscurus the magizoologist had attempted to extract in Sudan was one of many stories Newt Scamander had and Percy could imagine a fair few of them were as dark as some of the cases he'd worked on during his career.

The world was nothing if not a cruel place.

The memories Scamander had provided the trial had told Percy much more about the younger wizard than his Ministry file did. Seraphina's look told him she was quite interested in Scamander. The parting words from Grindelwald were but the tip of the iceberg when it came to her interest in Scamander. Had Grindelwald not spoken to Scamander, not said those words, asked that question with such a knowing air that forced the magizoologist to meet his gaze, Percy doubted he would have skirted the issue as he had. But, for all that Percy respected Seraphina — and he _did_ respect her — he was not someone who would share his thoughts on a subject matter he hadn't reached any concrete conclusions on. Least of all when that subject matter happened to be a man who had indirectly saved Percy's life.

No-Maj whiskey had a gentle burn to it, one Percy found he quite enjoyed, and he was forever thankful that Seraphina had seen no need to shut down any of the secret breweries they inevitably came across while working. It provided him a steady supply of something that didn't blunt his senses, or his magic, and didn't make his ears steam uncomfortably like that damnable firewhiskey so many of his subordinates favoured. Goldstein at least had some damned sense and avoided the dreadful concoction like the poison it was.

Percy wondered if Scamander drank firewhiskey.

He glanced up at the timekeeper on the mantle over the fireplace in his office, to the right of his desk, as it chimed an alert. Someone was sending him a message.

Through the back-channels between the Ministries.

Pushing his chair back, Percy stood smoothly and moved towards the mantle, hand coming up to rest lightly on the polished wood in front of the timekeeper. The heads of the various Auror departments around the world, from America all the way to Australia, kept in contact with each other using a variety of methods. One of those ways was the back-channels that existed between the Auror's in the Ministries.

When Percy had been a young Auror, still fresh and hopefully optimistic, he'd been introduced to the back-channels by his senior partner. He didn't know a single Auror who hadn't used the back-channels at least once in their career, and now that he was the head of his department, Percy had learnt of the other methods the heads of the Auror departments employed to keep in contact.

He wondered if any of them had figured out Grindelwald had been impersonating him. Or, more likely, Grindelwald had avoided speaking to them, especially since he knew several of his counterparts around the globe actively used a number of Dark Detectors when communicating. They'd have figured him out all too soon.

No, Percy decided, bringing his other hand up to stop the second hand with his forefinger just as it reached three on the face, Grindelwald had definitely avoided interacting with his fellow Auror's.

The face of the timekeeper faded from its ceramic cream, becoming an inky, swirling mass for a moment before a face replaced it. Percy blinked, dropping his hands away from the mantle and stepping back to lean against his desk.

"Al-Shalad."

The small image of his counterpart from the Egyptian Ministry stared at Percy for a long moment, face inscrutable, before he grinned suddenly. Al-Shalad's hair had thinned out, his skin become more stretched and haggard than it had been the last time Percy had spoken to him, but his eyes were bright enough, sparking with pleasure.

"Graves! It's nice to see you looking so alive and not insane!" Al-Shalad's voice echoed tinnily around Percy's office. His voice was still accented, a little less than before, and Percy felt like sighing.

Of course Al-Shalad would be the first one to call him after everything had happened with Grindelwald's trial.

"It's nice to see a face that looks more exhausted than mine," Percy shot back calmly, unable to hold back a small smirk when Al-Shalad threw his head back and laughed deeply.

"Always so sharp and grumpy my friend!" Al-Shalad grinned brightly before he sobered suddenly. Percy tensed. "I wish I could say this was a social call Graves, but it's not."

"What's it about?" Percy asked, demanded really, crossing his arms across his chest and staring hard at Al-Shalad's face in the timekeeper. "Grindelwald?"

Al-Shalad sighed, nodding. "In part yes," he said, "but not completely."

Percy bit back the instinctive desire to demand Al-Shalad just tell him what it was he'd called about, but he knew his Egyptian counterpart was collecting his thoughts. Al-Shalad wasn't one for just blurting things out. He was a fan of thinking things through before rushing into action, something that Percy could appreciate had its time and place. Still, he was impatient, always had been.

"He tried to escape yes?" Al-Shalad asked, the question obviously rhetorical but Percy nodded anyone. Al-Shalad blew out a breath. "That's not all he attempted Graves."

"What do you mean?" Percy couldn't help but ask, frowning darkly. "He's here, secure and he's not escaping any time soon. What do you think he tried while attempting to escape? Or—" Percy paused, blinking, "—what did his _supporters_ do?"

Al-Shalad gave Percy a bitter smile. "They broke into one of the unearthed tombs we've hidden from the Muggles- uh, No-Maj's."  Percy straightened, spine stiffening as he stared at Al-Shalad with alarm. "They didn't take anything, not that we can tell, but we never really documented what was inside it before we covered it up."

Percy breathed out a relieved breath before the rest Al-Shalad's words registered. He frowned. "That's not standard for you Shalad. You're a stickler for accurate recordkeeping of the tombs in Egypt," he commented, watching sharply as Al-Shalad shifted in the timekeeper. "So, what's so different about _this_ tomb that you blocked it off without checking it out fully?"

Al-Shalad bit his lip in an uncharacteristic display of nerves and Percy moved closer to the timekeeper, tilting his head down to look closely at his colleague. "Shalad?"

"We couldn't get past the first chamber," Shalad admitted quietly. "Two of my best Auror's were killed Percival—" Percy started at Al-Shalad's use of his first name, he'd never done that before "—cut down like they were made of parchment. The codebreakers we had with us didn't fair any better. One of them was hit with a curse that turned him into a shrivelled corpse in less than ten seconds. The other three managed to escape only to go stark-raving mad by the end of the week, screaming about nightmares and shadows on the walls."

"A curse?" Percy asked immediately. "Or some sort of cursed object maybe?"

Al-Shalad shrugged. "I don't know," he said, a hand appearing in the face of the timekeeper as the Egyptian rubbed his brow tiredly. At least Percy knew why his colleague looked so drawn out and exhausted. He'd obviously been worrying about this for a while now. "Our best guess so far is that the curses are there to keep us out — obvious since it's a tomb — but the first chamber lacked any of the typical signs we'd usually see in a tomb. None of the markings on the walls matched anything recognisable to the hieroglyphs the No-Maj have figured out, nor any of the writings we have for the Ancient Wizards of Egypt. There's- well, the only thing we can figure out is that the tomb was built to keep something _contained_ and to keep anyone from entering it after it was sealed."

Percy stared at Al-Shalad, unable to really understand the other Auror. What he was implying was that—

"Are you saying there might be a creature inside that tomb and Grindelwald's followers wanted to- what? Steal it?" He asked, dumbfounded and a little horrified at the possibility.

There was little still known about the Ancient Wizards of Egypt, the No-Maj explorers knew more about the culture and livelihoods of the Ancient Egyptians but they knew nothing of the wizards of the time. They thought them especially dedicated priests and few No-Maj's believed in magic. But the magical community of Egypt knew just how dangerous, how powerful, their ancestors had been. Some of the magic in the tombs hidden from No-Maj eyes was so strong that it physically affected anyone who stumbled too close.

Percy had been in Egypt for a brief time, the Great War had involved more than just European countries in its scourge, and he could still remember the soul-deep cold that he'd felt from the ziggurat pyramid they'd camped near to one night. It had felt like death was emanating from it, like dementors were all around him and trying to suck his soul out. Never had he been so happy as when they'd packed up the next morning and apparated to the next meet-up point with the rest of the wizards in the region.

That pyramid had only been a place where the Ancient Wizards had practised necromancy and had no need of defenses to warn others away. He shuddered to imagine what could be in this tomb Al-Shalad spoke of.

"I really can't say," Al-Shalad replied with a shrug. "I've got a team watching it and I've called Gringotts to see if they'll spare some goblins to offer us some assistance—" Al-Shalad's lips twisted up in a grimace "—I imagine they'll want to keep whatever they touch but, at this point, if it means I can get confirmation that there's nothing in that damned tomb, or that there is, I'll personally hand them anything we find in there."

Percy could  understand his colleagues reasoning. Sometimes things bothered you enough you'd end up willingly giving up anything to get it sorted out. He'd had a few cases like that over the years.

"If you find out anything else Al-Shalad, don't hesitate to call," Percy said, a firm tone to his voice that his fellow Auror nodded to. "Is it ungrateful of me to sort of wish you'd never told me any of this?" He asked dryly.

Al-Shalad huffed out a tired laugh. "I know how you feel," he muttered before he shook his head and his eyes regained their spark of amusement. "Anyway! I hear you've had a guest in your great city these past few weeks."

"Other than Grindelwald you mean?" Percy couldn't help but ask, enjoying the way Al-Shalad rolled his eyes at him.

"Obviously, he's not a guest but a parasite." Al-Shalad's voice was filled with vehemence and Percy found his lip curling in a half-smile. "But no, not him. You've got a British Ministry official walking your streets."

"I've got several," Percy pointed out and Al-Shalad gave him a look. "Scamander?"

"Scamander." Al-Shalad's face was amused, tiredly so, but it was the sort of amusement Percy had seen the other Auror express when dealing with a particularly troublesome case that amused him at the same time. "He's a damned menace you know?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "You've met him then?"

"Met him! I damned near threw him in the Nile for the crocs to eat!" Al-Shalad exclaimed laughing. Percy stiffened at the words for a moment before forcing himself to relax. Al-Shalad was well-known for his fits of temper in the heat of the moment.

"What did he do to deserve such a fate?"

Al-Shalad sighed, shaking his head with a smile on his lips. "The better question, my friend, is what _didn't_ he do?" Al-Shalad laughed again, a quiet little breath of laughter. "He saved our department a lot of bother truthfully but the way he went about it- ah I was so very close to getting myself arrested by my own Auror's!"

"Sounds like a story." Percy stepped away from the timekeeper, reaching out to pick up his glass. He took a small sip before leaning against his desk again. "Care to share it?"

Al-Shalad grinned. "Why not? You could probably do with the heads-up on Scamander's habits. Though—" Al-Shalad tilted his head "—maybe not. He did manage to cause enough chaos that it revealed Grindelwald."

Percy inclined his head in agreement with that statement. Scamander had certainly done that. Apparently it was a habit of it.

He took another sip of his drink and waited patiently for Al-Shalad to decide. His colleague had a profound weakness for telling stories however, so Percy didn't even had to wait more than a minute before Al-Shalad nodded.

"Right, so. He showed up wandering outside Cairo, that damned suitcase of his held over his head as he all-but dragged himself towards the city. It was pure chance we even found out he was in the country; one of my Auror's in Thebes had sent a message through the channels to us, nattering on about the Blue Demon or other. Should have realised what he meant the moment he said 'blue' but I didn't and so the first time I see Scamander and know he's in Egypt,  he's being chased through Cairo in the middle of the night, clutching his suitcase like his life depended on it, and covered in blood."

Percy blinked. "What?"

Al-Shalad nodded solemnly. "Not quite the same reaction I had to the sight, but it was definitely a shock to me. We managed to grab him and apparate him to our base, a healer was called. He flatly refused to let go of his damned suitcase. Even when he passed out from bloodloss. Damned stubborn kid." Al-Shalad half-disappeared out of the frame of the timekeeper for a moment, reappearing as he drank from a long glass. Percy wonder if if was water or something stronger.

"Do you know we have legends of Djinn in our country?" Al-Shalad asked suddenly after he put his glass back down. "They're Arabic mythos to the No-Maj and, for the most part, most of them aren't really what they think they are anyway, but— well… some of them are."

"There are ones we call ghūl who are, well, honestly, they're not so friendly. Spells can keep them at bay, some have managed to use a Patronus against them, but in the end it's better to trap them somewhere heavily warded and set spells to keep No-Maj from wandering near." Al-Shalad licked his lips, his dark eyes haunted in a way that had Percy wanting to reach out and press a comforting hand to his colleague's shoulder, timekeeper be damned.

"I saw one once, when I was a boy," Al-Shalad almost whispered, his voice barely audible. Percy had to lean forward to hear him properly. "It was a great big lumbering thing that moved too fluidly to be human, to be natural. No magical creature I've heard of, or seen since, moved like it did—" Al-Shalad shivered "—or _sounded_ like it did."

"I've never heard of any magical creature, beast or otherwise, that sounded like it did," Al-Shalad said, taking a long draught of his drink. Percy highly doubted it was water now. "Centaurs, I've met. Merfolk too. They can speak our languages, and we can learn theirs, but they're not— they're not evil. There's nothing I've ever come across in all my years that scares me as much as that Ghūl did Percival. That still scares me."

Percy watched Al-Shalad as the Egyptian fell silent, gaze distant and face troubled. He'd heard that Al-Shalad had seen a lot of things in his time as head of the Auror department of the Egyptian Ministry, but this wasn't something he'd even heard rumours of. But he wondered what it had to do with Scamander.

Al-Shalad blinked suddenly, straightening up from a slight slouch that Percy hadn't even realised he'd fallen into. "That was when I was a boy, long ago, and I never thought I'd see one ever again. But… that night we found Scamander—"

"You saw one again?" Percy half-asked, half-finished for his colleague, his friend, who nodded. "Why was it after Scamander? This creature."

Al-Shalad licked his lips, shaking his head slightly. "Ghūl don't— they're not— they're not creatures. They're _demons_. Monsters." Al-Shalad let out a bitter laugh. "They whisper in the night, call out to you in voices of friends and family, lure you out of your safe, comfy bed and when you're out in the dark, alone and so, so stupidly naive, they come for you. If you're lucky you die fast. If you're not…"

Percy stared at Al-Shalad blankly.

"Scamander was lucky," Al-Shalad said quietly. "Lucky we found out he was in the city, lucky we found him. Just. Just plain lucky. It had slashed him up pretty good, probably scared him, and he was trembling and looked so wild in the Ministry, I thought he'd gone mad with fear. But—" Al-Shalad shook his head "—he calmed down quick enough and demanded that we let him back out into the city to hunt it down."

"He what!" Percy couldn't help but exclaim, horrified at the very idea of Scamander doing such a crazy thing. "You didn't let him did you?"

"Of course I didn't! What do you take me for!" Al-Shalad exclaimed hotly. He breathed out heavily. "No. We didn't let him out. I flatly refused. That Djinn had to be lured out of the city, before it could kill anyone. But… I guess I should have paid more attention to the rumours among the other Auror's about the kid."

"He snuck out, out of my own damned Ministry, and went looking for it." Al-Shalad stared at Percy through the timekeeper. "We found him just outside Giza, miles from the Ministry, running like his life depended on it."

Percy imagined it probably _had_ depended on it.

"We caught up to him just in time to watch him blast a crater into the sand around the Sphinx, a doorway revealed that he disappeared down." Al-Shalad shivered, taking a shuddering breath. "A shadowy beast, all lumbering limbs and darkness chased after him inside. It was howling at him. I can still hear the things it was saying."

"What happened?" Percy asked softly, desperate to know what happened but restraining himself because Scamander obviously hadn't died. He might have been seriously injured however.

Al-Shalad shook his head. "I don't know," he answered. "None of us could get past the doorway, it— it wouldn't let us through."

"But Scamander—" Percy began but Al-Shalad cut him off.

"I know," he said heavily. "He told us later that the only reason he'd been able to enter was because of the injuries from the Djinn. Something to do with ancient magic in the Sphinx that made it only so the 'cursed' could enter."

Percy's chest constricted. He didn't like the sound of that. He really didn't like the sound of that.

"Scamander never told us what happened to him inside the Sphinx," Al-Shalad said into the heavy silence of the room. "No matter how much we asked, no matter how long it took him to recover from whatever happened. He was in there for hours and all we could hear was a dreadful howling from deep inside. Do you know that Djinn howls are so high they can make your ears bleed if you listen to them for an extended period of time?" Al-Shalad shook his head. "Hours of it had seven of my Auror's having to retreat to the pyramids just to stop themselves from going mad listening to it. I'm not sure how I managed to stand by that door the entire time, but I did. I did."

Al-Shalad's gaze snapped onto Percy's face, his dark eyes locking with Percy's pale ones. "The howling stopped, just before dawn. We waited. Waited for Scamander but he didn't come out. I— I thought he was dead. We had no way of getting inside to know for sure." Al-Shalad grimaced. "I was just about to order my Auror's to block the door up, cover it back up with the sand Scamander had blasted away, when he stumbled out and fell to his knees in front of me. I could hardly tell if it _was_ him he was covered in so much blood."

Al-Shalad glanced upwards, beseeching in a way and Percy felt like copying him. His heart was pounding in his chest. Merlin but what Al-Shalad was telling him— Percy wished he'd never asked.

"We had to carry him back to the Ministry, couldn't risk apparating him. The healer's from the hospital came to him and it took them hours to get him stable. I've never seen so many empty potion vials used for one patient before, Percival. It's not something I want to ever see again." Al-Shalad drew in a deep, fortifying breath. "It took him a week to recover, a week where we had to look after his animals and I turned such a blind eye to the sheer number of dangerous beasts he had in there because I was grateful and— and I guess I was amazed that he was still alive. He told me he'd managed to lock the Djinn up beneath the Sphinx, next to others—" Percy froze at the possibility of there being other Djinn's that Scamander had faced "—and that it took him so long because he had to fight it magically and mentally. It used his fears against him, that much I know, but he refused to tell me what it said to him. I can imagine though."

Percy thought of the file he'd been reading through not long ago and imagined that he could too.

A silence fell in the room for a long time, thick with something akin to melancholy but much more dark and hesitant. Percy decided to break it.

Forcing some amusement into his voice, he asked, "so how did this end up with your almost tossing him in the Nile for the crocs?"

The look Al-Shalad gave him told Percy that the other Auror knew what he was trying to do. But the Egyptian answered him anyway, visibly shaking off the shadowy thoughts and focusing on lighter things.

"He went back to the Sphinx," Al-Shalad explained. "With his damned case, and tried to re-enter it. I was alerted immediately and apparated in with a dozen Auror's. We nearly hit him with a dozen stunner's before I recognised him and he ducked." Al-Shalad smiled suddenly. "He's got sharper reflexes than I've seen in a cat, I tell you. But it didn't stop me from grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and dragging him away from the damned Sphinx."

"Why the hell did he try and get back inside!" Percy couldn't help but ask, a muted sort of horror raising his voice in pitch.

"Scamander insisted that there was a rare magical creature inside that needed treating," Al-Shalad explained. "He said it was the only reason he'd gotten out of there alive. It cleansed him of whatever curse the Djinn had placed on him." Al-Shalad shook his head. "He wanted to repay it."

"Please tell me you didn't let him go back in?" Percy asked plaintively, staring at Al-Shalad.

"I didn't have to," Al-Shalad replied. "He wasn't cursed anymore. Couldn't get past the door." Percy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Small mercies," he muttered.

"Didn't stop him from trying though and that's when I lost my temper with him," Al-Shalad continued. "Dragged him away from the Sphinx while my Auror's kept the No-Maj's away — though I think a lot of them were more interested in watching me drag the kid away from the place he'd almost died. Dragged him all the way over the mouth of the Nile and threatened to throw him into the river without his wand if he didn't accept the fact that sometimes he can't save everyone or everything."

Percy stared at Al-Shalad. He hadn't expected that. "What did he say to that?"

"He didn't say anything." Al-Shalad shrugged. "He punched me so hard I fell flat on my ass in the sand."

Percy's jaw dropped.

"Yeah, I hadn't expected it either." Al-Shalad's face broke out into a grin that chased the shadows from his face. "Also didn't expect him to hold out his hand to me and help me get back up either. Or the fact that he apologised after."

"He'd barely manage to survive a near-death experience with one of the scariest things in all of creation, and then tried to go back to the same place he'd faced it down. He punched me and apologised." Al-Shalad shook his head, grin softening into a gentle smile. "I laughed my head off at it all. I hadn't ever believed all the rumours about the younger Scamander; there's simply too many of them really. But, meeting him in person, getting punched by him. Well, it certainly changed my opinion about it."

"Wasn't there an incident with poachers?" Percy asked, frowning slightly as he recalled some of the rumours he'd heard. Something about Cairo and poachers…

Al-Shalad scoffed. "Different time," he explained. "They thought they could hide out near the Sphinx and we wouldn't notice their illegal operation. I was close to throttling him that too actually. He left me with so much paperwork."

"Ah." Percy half-shrugged. He could relate to that. The amount of paperwork he'd found Seraphina had signed off on while he'd been convalescing surrounding Scamander's _visit_ had apparently topped the quantity she'd had to sign for the annual International Wizarding Meet-Up in Kansas. Percy was impressed that Scamander had had such an impact really. He'd seen the height of that pile Seraphina regularly cursed every time there was a Meet-Up held in Kansas.

"How many people actually know about what happened?"

Al-Shalad shrugged. "A dozen? Perhaps a few more. I kept it quiet among my Auror's and they're loyal, but I imagine they let some things slip through the channels. I do know Scamander's brother doesn't know the whole story. Don't imagine he'd be too pleased to know his brother almost died and he didn't tell him."

"No, I don't think Theseus Scamander would be," Percy agreed lightly. "Why did you tell me?" He asked suddenly.

Al-Shalad stared at Percy with an inscrutable look on his face. He stared at him long enough for Percy to start to want to fidget but he ruthlessly suppressed the instinct.

"Because Scamander faced evil inside the Sphinx and he faced it again when Grindelwald was revealed," Al-Shalad said suddenly. "It's a talent of his. He finds trouble wherever he goes, causes chaos and leaves a lot of ruin in his wake. But, and this is important, he _never_ leaves without fixing things. I've seen his file myself, read it when he was recovering. Whatever happened to him at school, that story is a load of shit and I think you know it too. You wouldn't have sent out feelers in the channels to learn about him if you didn't."

Percy carefully kept his face blank, not letting his surprise at Al-Shalad's words show. He didn't know anyone would have been monitoring who asked what in the back-channels. Though, considering what he now knew about Scamander's experience in Egypt and Al-Shalad's involvement, he could understand why his fellow Auror had apparently been keeping an eye out for anyone looking into Scamander.

Scamander may not realise it, but he had a powerful supporter in Auror circles. Al-Shalad was as close to a legend as anyone could get in their profession. He'd seen the revolts against British rule by the No-Maj in Egypt; the Urabi Revolt, the 1919 Revolution, and the birth of the Egyptian Kingdom in 1922. Throughout it all, Al-Shalad had worked tirelessly with magical and non-magical ministries and officials to curb the exploitation of the situations by Dark wizards, criminals and poachers. For the most part he'd been largely successful, but the man had lost a lot for his loyalty to duty.

No-one spoke about his family. No-one dared to. It was a 'no-go' topic and Percy hadn't met a single Auror who had probed it; he had seen an arrogant pureblood from Britain make a backhanded comment about it to Al-Shalad, and he'd witnessed Al-Shalad send the man into the Nile.

He really did like throwing people who pissed him off into the Nile. Percy found he deeply appreciated Al-Shalad's commitment to such an action.

"His school house is known for loyalty and hard-work." Al-Shalad looked away from Percy, turning his head to stare at something in his room. "They don't give up and they don't give in. They never betray the things they care about and they'll run themselves ragged to protect what they care for." Al-Shalad turned to look at Percy, his eyes burning with an intensity that surprised Percy. It was a burning flame of determined loyalty. "I saw all of that when he went into that Sphinx and I felt it when he came back out. It's his greatest strength in a way, but to the things that like to destroy and desecrate, it's also a weakness. I read the report on his duel with Grindelwald for the Obscurus."

Al-Shalad frowned. "There's no way in hell that Grindelwald won't want revenge on Scamander for what he stopped him from doing. I'm stuck here in Egypt with this tomb, it's priority for me and I won't abandon my duty, but—" Al-Shalad raised a hand and pointed at Percy through the timekeeper "—he needs someone on his side who knows what he's capable of, not just rumours, but truth. _That's_ why I told you Percival Graves. Because he'll need someone on his side should Grindelwald try and attack him again."

Percy swallowed, through dry. "Why?" He asked, "I couldn't even fight Grindelwald long enough to call for back-up. He beat me like I was a child, Shalad. He stuffed me in a box for months and wore my face with no-one any the wiser. What can _I_ do?"

Al-Shalad gave Percy a reproachful look. "You can stop with the pity for starters," he said sharply. Percy startled. "I'd lose to Grindelwald a heck of a lot sooner than you did Graves. He's too powerful for any single Auror to handle, for any _team_ to defeat. You've seen that for yourself. He's evil. We can fight him but we can't beat him when we're covered in just as much darkness as he is."

"We work in shadows Graves, hunting Dark wizards and protecting the magical and non-magical worlds alike. That's our duty, that's what we all signed up for," Al-Shalad continued. "It's impossible for us to defeat someone like Grindelwald who has power and malice and knows all the same things as us and more. He knows our tactics and he's not like any other Dark wizard who has come before. The only way to beat him is by being as unrelenting, as unconventional as they come and there isn't a single Auror around that can be both. We're not designed for it. We're not _trained_ for that."

Percy understood what Al-Shalad was saying, what he implied but didn't outright state. He'd entertained similar thoughts himself. The training Auror's the world over received was standardised with specialisations for specific sub-branches. They were taught tactics and strategy and specific spells. Ingenuity was useful but few Auror's possessed as much as was necessary to handle the more sophisticated Dark wizards. Petty criminals were easy to handle, predictable in their own way.

But Grindelwald wasn't some common criminal. He wasn't a common wizard and he certainly wasn't predictable. He was dangerously unpredictable and impossible to understand. His supporters had been taught, educated on how Percy's Auror's operated, and it had meant the assault on Grindelwald's trial could have easily ended in his escape had it not been for the Scamander brother's and the reporters who jumped to action. Power and knowledge was meaningless if your opponent knew just the right thing to disarm you.

Newt Scamander was unrelenting like an Auror, but he was unpredictable too. If _anyone_ was a threat to Grindelwald and his plans in America, it was the magizoologist.

Percy had watched as he'd bested Dark wizard after Dark wizard with his brother at his side. How both of them together had managed to defeat Grindelwald and Percy realised that was what Al-Shalad meant.

Percy didn't need to be stronger, he didn't need to be faster or quicker or more creative; he needed to act in the same capacity he'd seen Theseus act with his brother. Like a sword and shield that swapped roles randomly and never repeated their order. Unpredictable and unrelenting.

"I understand," he said and Al-Shalad stared at him with a hard look in his eyes. "He needs someone on his side, support." Al-Shalad nodded slowly. "You're telling me to be that support? Because you can't be?"

Al-Shalad smiled softly. "I'll speak to you soon Percival," he said, not answering Percy's questions. "I've got a report to write."

The timekeeper's face returned to its ceramic cream colour suddenly and Percy stared at it for a long time. He huffed out a laugh. He didn't need Al-Shalad to answer him really. Percy already knew the answer to his questions.

Newt Scamander was an important man, more important than most would ever realise. And now he had two supporters in powerful places. Percy didn't doubt for a second that Al-Shalad wouldn't come if he truly thought Scamander needed the help. But he was trusting Percy to be a protector of sorts for the magizoologist. Newt Scamander didn't need protecting from most things, but from Grindelwald, Percy would certainly do that.

Especially since it had the added bonus of being something that would greatly piss off the Dark wizard and Percy really was a spiteful shit at heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I planned for this sequel to have been completed a while ago but, well, I started work, got distracted by a disability article that wants to be written, and then got ill. Now I'm just over the cold and it forced me to relax for a while. So this entire thing was actually written in one go, while ill, and I am not taking any blame for any grammar mistakes because wow I'm surprised I even worded coherently. If you notice anything, please point it out to be and I'll fix it when I can :)
> 
> I read a book once, a long time ago, called The Firebird, which dealt with Djinn and such that I found greatly interesting and loved. Somehow that came to mind while I was writing this and, hopefully, I've not offended or upset anyone. If the portrayal is inaccurate or anything, then I profusely apologise. I didn't manage as much research as I personally prefer to do when writing, but hopefully it was enough.
> 
> Heck, I didn't even realise the Sphinx wasn't fully excavated from the sand until the 30s and I'm someone who loves Ancient History and such! Believe me I'm ashamed of myself. Still. Hopefully this was good and you liked it.
> 
> Please remember, kudos is glory and comments are life :)


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